The Fiuri Realms (Shioni of Sheba Book 5) (8 page)

Viridelle’s grin was more a grim quirk of her lips. “Because, as someone said, it’s important to stand against the likes of Lord Tazaka.”

“Even if it starts with the smallest Fiuri,” said Iridelle.

“Even one with no colour and no past,” Chardal put in.

Shioni wiped her cheeks crossly. A few tears had managed to escape, after all. “You know what you are, Iri, Viri and Char?”

They chorused, “No …”

“You’re the most outrageously wonderful friends ever!”

O
DDly, WHEN a GREEN
Fiuri messenger delivered Ashkuriel’s ultimatum two evenings later, an unexpected weight lifted off Shioni’s shoulders. This was it. No more waiting, no more endless questions from Chardal’s scholars and drinking strange nectars. No more failing to remember. She had to face Tazaka. He must know who she was.

One thing was as certain as nectar came from flowers. She and Tazaka would never be friends.

The rumour that arrived before the Whisper-Wasp was even stranger. Lord Tazaka had announced his impending marriage to a Blue Fiuri. She would be crowned with the new moon, before marrying Tazaka a month later. The news had Sherfiuri Ball abuzz.

“Flying caterpillars, that’s ridiculous!” Arandal exclaimed, flying in tight, agitated circles. “First Tazaka invades the Blue tunnels, and now he’s
marrying
one of them?”

“Softly, Big Chief,” said Lifi, who had adopted Shioni’s nickname for him, much to Viri and Iri’s amusement. “You’ll disturb your children.”

Shioni had been taken to see the Fiuri children–caterpillars, actually. They lived in a special nursery at what she thought of as the ‘top’ of the house, a light room inside one of the fanciful, stylised wings of the Fiuri lying on her stomach. The tunnel-shaped room was very warm, filled with bushes growing in from all sides and bubbles of specially treated water, which Viridelle claimed were ‘stuffed with good minerals’. Here, three glowing, golden caterpillars patiently fattened themselves on delicious-smelling leaves. They were about the length of Shioni’s leg, and strikingly beautiful. Lifi proudly introduced them as her children.

Something was deeply odd about this picture. But Shioni could not touch her proboscis to it, as the Fiuri saying went. She eyeballed the Fiuri children as curiously as they eyeballed her. Caterpillars did not speak. But they looked as though they ought to. Their huge dark eyes were full of life and magic.

“My pupae,” said Lifi, pointing to two large, golden pods hanging from the same branch. “But you know all this, don’t you, Shionelle? Doesn’t this look familiar?”

She shook her white hair miserably. “No.”

“Poor little petal.” Lifi’s wings drooped. “Don’t you fuss. It’ll come back, you’ll see.”

Lifirielle gave her at least twenty hugs before they departed Sherfiuri Ball from outside the Hunters Guild, early the following morning. Shioni’s head was stuffed so full of advice and information that she wondered if it wouldn’t start leaking out of her like nectar.

Ashkuriel’s soldiers brought a dazzle of five large Vermilion Dragonflies, which would convey them to Green Central, Tazaka’s lair. They were fierce beasts, cream on the underside and a deep red on the head and upper parts of the rigid carapace, kept docile by magic and by feeding them special nectars. Beasts of war, Viri whispered. They had a double sting on their tails that could easily stun or kill a Fiuri. Crouched down, the Vermilion Dragonflies towered over the Fiuri. Each insect seated four Fiuri on its back, between four glistening, transparent wings. Four wings? Could she be some type of dragonfly, Shioni wondered? Finely crafted seats were strapped to the top of the long, flexible bodies. Braided rope harnesses secured the riders on board.

“Tie her in nice and tight,” said Ashkuriel, smiling nastily at Shioni. “Don’t want anyone falling off and getting chewed up by a carnivorous plant in the Cracks.”

His soldiers lashed her to the saddle. Zealously.

“Let the little petal breathe!” scowled Iri.

Viridelle had described the Cracks to her. They were a maze of dangerous tunnels which lay between the outer cavern-system and the inner one. Only a Hunter, with their knowledge of Hunter secrets and lore, could find a safe way through. That was Viri’s job. Char would ward them against the huge variety of flesh-eating wasps, Cave-Crawlers and spiders which festooned the Cracks, not to mention all the carnivorous plants and the danger of becoming trapped in the unstable, ever-shifting tunnels.

By Cargo Wasp, the journey would have been two weeks. By dragonfly, Viri said, the journey should take just under a week.

Shioni shifted uneasily on her seat as Viridelle’s Vermilion Dragonfly cracked open its mean, underslung jaw to vent a grumpy yawn crossed with a growl. Perhaps it disliked getting up early in the morning, she thought. Those teeth! One set was not enough. Dragonflies sported three rows of needle-sharp fangs. She imagined a swarm loose in the inhabited tunnels. Arandal had told her that in the old days, the Yellows used their Vermilion Dragonflies in exactly that way, ravaging entire tunnels full of Fiuri. Now, they usually carried soldiers into battle.

Evidently, Lord Tazaka was in a hurry to see her.

Shioni decided she was
not
flattered. Tazaka was a pitiless tyrant. Whatever he wanted of her, it could not be good–neither for her health, nor for Fiuriel at large.

“Who’s that?” Shioni called over to Viridelle.

Viri made a fluid gesture toward the Green Fiuri seated behind her. “Tellira, Senior Hunter,” she said. “He’s my mentor for this journey.”

“I’m evaluating this Hunter,” said Tellira, but accompanied his dour pronouncement with a friendly smile. “I am to ensure Viridelle does not track down any other rarities.”

This comment earned him an infuriated glare from Ashkuriel. “Mount up,” he snarled. “We’re wasting valuable travelling time.”

Chardal mounted up behind Shioni. A Yellow Fiuri sat in the front position to direct their dragonfly, and one sat behind them. Both were armed with swords and bows, while Shioni noted the quivers of throwing spears also fastened within easy reaching distance of the Fiuri soldiers. To her surprise, Chardal furtively pressed a dagger into her hand. “Keep this hidden.” She slipped it into her shorts pocket. Iridelle mounted another of the huge dragonflies, seated in third place between three Yellow soldiers. Ashkuriel fluttered up to his place atop the largest Vermilion Dragonfly. He had a large chunk missing out of his lower right wing, Shioni noticed. He raised a clenched fist.

The dazzle of Vermilion Dragonflies shifted impatiently. A loud buzzing cut the morning air as their wings began to vibrate, picking up speed. Just when Shioni thought the sound was about to saw through her ears into the bone, it settled into a steady drone. The dragonflies pressed forward along Sherfiuri Ball’s main thoroughfare. Shioni did not care for how they bulled through the crowds without the slightest care. From Char’s hiss behind her, she judged he felt the same way.

As the guards encircling the entrance waved them on into the outside world–not that they had much choice faced with five speeding dragonflies–Shioni was struck again by Fiuriel’s radiance. Every plant glowed. A great amber crystal depending from what her brain told her was the cavern’s ceiling, added a golden cast to the pollen-clouds drifting lazily above field after vibrant field of different types of flowers. She sneezed at once.

Char clucked irritably and touched her shoulder. The tickle in her nostrils vanished.

She knew exactly what he was thinking. A Fiuri who was allergic to their staple food source, flowers? Absurd. “Thanks, Char.”

“This morning, we’re headed anti-Spinward to Cave Fifteen,” said Char, clearly settling in to his role of travel guide and information provider. “After that–”

“Sixteen,” Shioni interrupted. “I can count.”

“
Fifteen
. Sixteen shares the same tunnel structure but lies more Sunward. We will arrive in Cave Fifteen by this evening. And a miserable, flowerless hammock of decay it is, too.”

Shioni crossly re-furled her dangling proboscis. Scabby vultures, if her ridiculously long tongue would not try to hit her chest every time she was amazed! It was unlike Char to be so scathing. She expected that from Viridelle, or worse, from Ashkuriel. She hurriedly sorted out the directions in her mind. Right, Moonward was toward the Inner Green Caverns. Sunward was the opposite direction. And she should try not to dwell on whatever a vulture might be.

“Is Sixteen more Sunward than our Seventeen, Char?”

“Listen to your teacher.” The smirk was clear in Chardal’s voice. But he proceeded to tell her more about Fiuriel than she had ever wanted to know. Shioni learned that Fiuriel was one of three moons orbiting a planet called Crysturiel. ‘Moonward’ referred to the moon Turion, which shadowed Fiuriel’s path around furnace-hot Crysturiel. ‘Sunward’ was toward an orange-yellow star called Altair. How Fiuri who feared the surface of their world knew all this was a mystery to her.

The caverns were originally long tunnels dug by Cave-Crawlers. The further action of burrowing insects and several types of powerful, fast-growing fungi made the tunnels grow rapidly in different directions. Char reminded her that the Fiuri had taken to the tunnels to shelter from their enemies. They learned to ward their homes and strengthen the tunnel structures to stop them moving about so much. Still, disasters were common.

And then he said a word which jolted her. “Some Fiuri believe we fled from dragons.”

“Dragons?” Another mysterious echo from her past.

The soldier behind them snapped, “Heresy! Heresy and lies. Shut your nectar-hole, scholar.”

Chardal seemed unabashed. He said, “Sometimes we scholars must deal with these old, disputed legends so that we can educate the ignorant, and separate truth from lies. This Fiuri has amnesia. I need to teach her about Fiuriel. Things even the greenest caterpillar knows.”

“Yellowest,” retorted the soldier.

Shioni pulled her left antenna down to inspect it. Bland, boring white. Yuck. Not even a hint of colour. How could she
know
about dragons, like a shiver in her bones, but not remember the details? The very word made her imagine magic and fire and great wickedness. Why? She was tired of asking why. She felt homesick; only, she had no idea where home was!

She imagined Ashkuriel’s dragonfly crashing headlong into one of the large, branching crystal outcroppings, but even that thought did not cheer her up.

The White Fiuri pondered the question of ‘home’ as they swept down a new tunnel. To her, it was indistinguishable from the one in which she had been found, but Char seemed to expect excitement around every corner. His green eyes shone and his spiky green hair seemed wilder than usual. The Vermilion Dragonflies were making a terrific speed. Even Shioni, the most ignorant just-out-of-the-cocoon Fiuri, could tell that much. The speed was enough to make her eyes water, especially when they stormed through clouds of pollen or gnats, which splattered against her cheeks and forehead.

They did not pause to renew any magical wards, nor to refresh themselves at the abundant green water bubbles. Chardal passed her a gourd of nectar when she asked for food.

“You’ll see the tunnels beginning to change character, soon,” said Chardal. “Cave Fifteen is known for its medicine production. The plant life is very different to our beautiful Seventeen. Fungi, mushrooms and toadstools. Useful, but very–”

“Smelly,” said the Yellow Fiuri driving their dragonfly, as he yanked on the reins to direct the creature around a tight corner. The tunnel had narrowed, looping about like a snake trying to bite its own tail.

“Pungent,” said Char.

“Rank.”

“Mouldy. Dank. Foetid. Unsavoury,” retorted Char, not to be outdone.

“How do you direct this beast?” asked Shioni.

“We fix plugs into the secondary ear canals,” came the reply. “You’d also fly differently if I steered you by your ears, wouldn’t you?”

Shioni touched her pointy ears, wincing at the thought. “Er … yes.” Then she heard Chardal guffawing behind her. She snapped, “Keep it down back there, pollen-brain!”

By late afternoon, the first whiff of dank, mouldering caves reached Shioni’s nostrils. This was more what she had expected of the underground Fiuri world. They left the outermost wards of Cave Seventeen in their wake as they sped down a long, shadowy tunnel into what Shioni immediately thought of as a new world. Everything changed. Gone were the trees and bushes. In their place, towering forests of mushrooms and fungi rose all around them, and great ridges of luminous fungal growths spanned half the tunnel, in places. The cool air seemed to grow thicker in Shioni’s lungs. The quality of the light was completely different–much softer, stemming from radiant patterns on the mushrooms and from the ever-present crystal outcroppings, although they were much scarcer in these tunnels. Insects multiplied, from swarms of biting gnats to great Dung Beetles the size of Iri and Viri’s house, which rolled their dirt balls along diligently. Shioni wondered if, with those jutting mandibles, a giant beetle could take on one of their Vermilion Dragonflies in battle?

But even here, a few patches of hammock flowers could be found, and it was in one of these that they chose to spend the night.